Venom
by PagetPaulson
Summary: She had to let him go.


Running from the older man and through the villa, Emily did her best to hold onto the child in her arms steady. She slammed the door behind her and locked it, keeping the shaking baby in her arms to her chest as she quickly made it to the other side of the room.

Immediately there was a pounding at the door. "Emily!"

The honey haired woman felt her heart racing at the use of her real name on the Irishman's lips.

"Emily, get back here!"

Noticing the blond boy in the bed to her left starting to squirm, Emily knelt beside him. "Declan sweetheart, go back to bed."

"Lauren?" the five year old whispered.

"Emily!"

The dark eyed woman shushed the blond boy in his bed, almost cowering beside him as the banging on the door grew louder. "Hide under your covers," she urged the young boy, the little girl in her arms starting to cry.

Before she knew it the door was practically blown to bits. "Emily."

Emily stood, her back against the windows of the bedroom. "Ian, get away from me." He had found her out. He knew her identity, threatened her, slapped her and chased her throughout the house all with a baby in her arms. "Back up."

"How dare you," the evil man hissed at her. "How dare you order me. How dare you lie to me!"

The light haired woman held her breath. He had a gun.

"How long did you think you could keep this up, love?"

Emily's eyes shot over to Declan when she heard him crying, and she fought her urge to reach over and comfort him. If she were to move from where she stood, she was sure the man she'd lied with for two years would shoot her dead.

"How long?"

"I understand how upset you must be," she whispered back to him, afraid to upset the children any more. "Angry."

The IRA agent took a strong step forward. "You betrayed me," the Irishman growled, the gun pointed straight for the brunette before him. "You got information from me. You had my child."

Emily's head shakily nodded in response.

"How long did you think this could go on?"

"Ian," she said as calmly as she could, holding the baby to her chest, "if I were going to turn you in, don't you think I would have done it already?"

The blond man gripped the gun in his hand harder. "You've gathered information," his thick accent stated, "the longer you stay, the more information you have. You can tell them about my deals, about my children."

"They're my children too."

Ian raised the gun to level with Emily's head as her body lurched forward.

Emily's lips thinned as she kept herself steady. "Do you think I'd tell the government about my own children? My husband?" she whispered. "I didn't tell them anything, I didn't give them any of the information you've given me. I didn't give them any ammo against you because I love you."

"You were sent here!"

"And I want to stay here," she cried. "I married you! I had your child! You think I would do that for a mission?"

Ian's eyes hardened on the younger woman. "Tell me what they sent you for."

Emily sniffled, her hand pressed against her daughter's head to keep her from turning to see the gun pointed at them. "Emily Prentiss," she started, her heart racing, "I'm from Interpol, I was sent by the CIA. The American government wants you taken down," the agent said strongly. "They sent me to gather intel and bring it back to them so they could hurt you at your weakest. You've been selling our enemies their weapons and they need to end your deals."

The blue eyed man felt his finger move to the trigger. "You were going to use my son against me."

"I would never," she begged the older man to understand. "I was sent here to take you down, not to fall in love with you." The brunette could feel her eyes stinging with tears, her daughter crying against her chest. "Ian, I haven't given them any information. I love you."

Ian kept himself quiet, doing his best not to let his anger burst to frighten his children.

"I can't give them anything. I don't want to go back," Emily said softly, her heart swelling as she took a step forward and he kept in his place. "Ian please believe me. I love you."

"Lauren loved me."

"I am Lauren." Emily could see her light hairs falling into her eyes as the gun in her husband's hand began to waiver. "When I'm with you, I'm Lauren. I love you." She took another step forward, her free hand protectively against her daughter's back. "I wouldn't risk our children or you for a government's game."

The light haired man kept his eyes hard. "When did you last speak to your team?"

"Months ago. I haven't given them any details on where we are or what you're doing." Gulping, the dark eyed woman held her breath. "But Louise was tipped off by the neighbors. They called Interpol."

"They're here?"

The anger she heard had her falter, her body moving back to the window behind her. "Louise said they're on their way." She could see the turmoil in those eyes she'd fallen in love with, Ian's grip on the gun never faltering.

In a quick moment the felon flipped his gun and held it out to the younger woman.

"What are you doing?" The anger in Ian's eyes had quickly turned to something she'd never seen before. "Ian, stop."

"Take the gun."

Emily's head shook. "No," she said strongly. The Interpol agent knew exactly what the man she loved wanted from her. "Ian, I won't."

The Irishman glowered at the younger woman. It didn't matter how they felt, what they had had for the past few years, it was important for this to go as planned for his children to be safe. "You cannot keep them unless it's known I'm no longer a threat."

"That doesn't mean I'm going to kill you," the agent said, her voice wavering.

"Emily-"

"I will not shoot you," she argued. Refusing to take the gun, she kept her back against the window. "Run."

"They'll find me and use you all against me."

Emily could hear the sirens start up their villa's drive, and her shaking hand reached out for the piece of metal.

Ian nodded to the beautiful woman, staring down to the necklace he had gotten her in replace of an engagement ring. "You say it was self defense." He hadn't chased her into the room and cornered the children for any other reason. "Emily."

The honey haired woman looked to the love of her life with scared eyes.

"I love you."

Emily's tears finally fell as she took the safety off the gun.

Bracing himself, the Irishman made sure to whisper to both his children his love for them. He straightened his shoulders, the sirens growing louder and echoing throughout the room as he held his breath.

She was quick to send a shot through his arm, the agent's heart breaking at the scream. Dropping the gun and placing her daughter with Declan in his bed, Emily took the spare blanket in the rocking chair and held it out to her husband.

"What did you do?"

"My shot was in self defense," she rushed out, holding the blanket to his wound. "I was holding Emile, I couldn't get a clear shot." Emily took her husband's chin in her hand and forced him to look at her. "Use the tunnels underneath the villa. Take one of the cars and get out."

Ian's eyes flickered down to those pink lips of the younger woman.

Holding back her sob, Emily leaned in and kissed the blond before her. "I love you."

Hearing the officers pull up to the house, the Irishman was quick to stand. "I'll find a way back to you," he said, kissing her once more. "Protect them."

She watched as her husband left the room, hearing their front door break into pieces from the officer's battering ram. Shooting once more into the wall, the agent dropped the gun to the floor and took both children into her arms. "We're ok," she whispered, kissing their heads. "Stay calm."

"Where's daddy?" Declan asked, eyes watering.

"He had to go for a little bit." Emily took them both to the floor with her and huddled them against the wall. "The police are coming up here, so we have to stay really strong. Ok? Be brave just like daddy."

Declan's blond head burrowed into Emily's chest as the officers came racing into the bedroom, their flashlights hurting his eyes.

"Lauren Reynolds?"

The light haired woman nodded her head, shielding her eyes with her free hand.

"Where is Ian Doyle?"

"He's gone." She forced her tears to sound like ones of sorrow, the agent instead immensely satisfied with their plan. Her husband was safe, and with them thinking he had gotten away - maybe in a few months they'd fake his death - they were safe as well. Looking up to the men invading the child's bedroom, her dark eyes found theirs. "He's gone."


End file.
